cule. How can I, when I recollect the light in which those opinions I have now adopted once appeared to myself?

"I have little more to say, my sweet friend. From the time I fully comprehended the first principles of the Christian religion, every thing in nature, every thing in society, every feeling, and every power of my heart and mind appeared to me in a new light; but I learnt slowly, and have still much to learn, of the extreme weakness and ignorance of the human mind; and of the perversion of the heart, and the strength of its passions. I have now, however, discovered the source of true knowledge, true virtue, and true strength. That you, my beloved Catharine, should also discover this, is my most ardent and constant prayer.

After I had been abroad about three years, I was called to England by the melancholy intelligence that my only sister was thought dangerously ill. I hurried to her; but my aunt will tell you her melancholy story, my dearest Catharine. I witnessed in her the powerful and happy influence of those principles I had embraced,they smoothed her bed of death.

"We conveyed her from one place to another, in the vain hope that change of air and scene might restore her, but without effect. On our return from -, we stopt at Mrs. Churchill's and there my sister became so much worse, that she could not be removed. Mrs. Churchill was a mother to her, and she remained in her house till the last scene was over. Mrs. Churchill rejoiced in my change of sentiments, and in the cheerful, and at times even joyful resignation of my poor sister.

"Mrs. Churchill's family had improved under her care in every way. George was at college, the younger children amiable and interesting, and in all the bloom of health, happiness, and peace. Poor Mrs. Churchill looked wonderfully older, grief had made slow but sure ravages in her constitution, resigned and pious as she was.

:

"During my stay in England, I met many of my former friends; but, in general, we mutually found each other changed. Walderford and a few others still retained their affection for me, and I became, through Walderford, acquainted in society in which my newly imbibed principles were understood and valued. Amongst these I formed many friendships; but an unfortunate wish of my father's made me abandon all these, and again leave my country. I need not name this wish to you, my dearest Catharine; but I would explain to you why I felt so averse to fulfilling it, and my chief reason was this I had learnt that a promise had been won from you, while a mere child, similar to that which my father had obtained from me. I shall tell you how I became acquainted with this. For a short time after I returned to England, my sister's illness took a more favourable turn, and I took that opportunity to pay an unexpected visit to my father. I found him in the same most unhappy situation in which I had left him, and the more kindly he received me, and the more affection I felt for him, the more distressing was it to witness that situation. I had only been one day at home, when my father returned to his favourite theme-my settling in my own country. He made me the most extravagant offers. I endeavoured to evade

giving any answer; but that was impossible, at last I said,

"But, my dear father, do you wish to have your son rejected by Miss Dunallan? You describe her as surrounded by the most agreeable admirers. I have no chance in such a competition.'

6

"Oh,' replied he, you are safe; the lady may amuse herself in making conquests, but it is many years since she made a promise never to marry any man but the one chosen by her father.' "Many years' repeated I, 'Miss Dunallan is still very young.'

but Lord Dun

"She is,' replied my father; allan has taught her to regard her promise as sacred, and she is one of those proud spirits who feel more bound by such engagements, than by the ceremony of marriage itself. There is but one event can break this bond,' added my father, and you will read it there,' giving me a letter.

"It was from your father, my dear Catharine, and its contents confirmed all my father had said, and declared that the only thing which could absolve his daughter from her promises, was his permission to make another choice, a permission nothing would induce him to give but the certainty that I wished to decline the connexion.

"I detested this tyranny, and determined as far as I could, consistently with my promise to my father, to give you, my dear Catharine, the power to make a choice for yourself; and in displeasing your father by delay I supposed that I promoted this plan.

"After much entreaty I obtained my father's consent again to go abroad; for, determined as

he was that I should sometime fulfil his wishes, his naturally yielding temper could not resist my importunity in asking delay.

"I will not conceal from you also, my dear Catharine, since I now can with truth say I was deceived, that I disliked the character I had heard of you; and, believing also that I should be very little suited to your taste, I looked upon our union as the beginning of misery, as far as domestic concerns could produce it, to both of us. I therefore took leave of my friends, and my country, and again became a wanderer.

"You know, my dearest Catharine, what called me home and what followed. It was during my stay abroad that, at the request of some friends in England, I undertook my present mission. They knew my wish to remain abroad, and that I cared not where, but only longed to make my existence of some use to my fellow-creatures—and now I am banished for I know not how long.

"I have put you in possession of all my secrets, my sweet friend, shall I add this most true one, that, during my banishment, I look forward to your letters, to your promised confidence and friendship, as my dearest and most longed for earthly pleasure. Adieu, dearest Catharine; remember your promise of perfect openness with your devoted friend,

VOL. I.

24

E. H. DUNALLAN."

CHAPTER XIII.

CATHARINE had been so completely absorbed while reading Dunallan's letter, that the time had passed away quite unobserved. She had read it with the most varied feelings. Some parts she scarcely, even after several perusals, understood. Conscious of this, she was again searching for those passages, when to her surprise, she was summoned to meet Mrs. Oswald at dinner. She complied with the summons, but was so absent that she answered at cross purposes whatever was addressed to her. Mrs. Oswald at last gave all attempts at conversation, and continued to eat her dinner in silence, but soon exclaimed, "Oh stop! don't eat that, my dear."

"Why madam ?" replied Catharine, starting

from her reverie.

66

"Because my love," said Mrs. Oswald, continuing to laugh, you have declined John's offer of sugar, and have completely covered your pudding with salt."

Catharine blushed and joined in Mrs. Oswald's laugh; and during the rest of the time she remained in the dining room, she was tolerably present to what passed.

After dinner Mrs. Oswald said she had a short letter to write, and Catharine had again engaged herself as deeply as ever with the contents of Dunallan's packet when obliged to meet Mrs.